


Late Night in the Girl's Room

by strengefruit



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M, No explicit Jack/Ianto but let's be real we know it's always lurking in the background, Post-Episode: s01e04 Cyberwoman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 07:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5489273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strengefruit/pseuds/strengefruit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first Torchwood fic I ever wrote. Of course it's Jack/Ianto and of course it's post-Cyberwoman, because that is my jam.</p>
<p>Random fluff where Ianto subsitutes alcohol for retcon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night in the Girl's Room

At the end of the longest day of his life, Ianto found himself in his apartment, more alone than he had ever been. Without pausing to think, he left his bloody suit in a pile on the floor of the bathroom and turn the water in the shower up as hot as he could bear. He didn’t know how long he was in there, but even after his fingers were wrinkled beyond repair he still thought he could see the water running red.

When the hot water ran out he wrapped a towel around himself and walked dripping into the bedroom. The room seemed too empty, the double bed too big, and suddenly the thought of spending one more minute by himself in an apartment meant for two was so horrifying that Ianto threw on the first clothes he could find and ran out the door. Retcon obviously wasn’t an option, so he soon found himself in the nearest bar looking for the next best thing.

After his seventh pint, Ianto was in no position to refuse when the blond put her hand on his knee and invited him to join her in the lady’s room. She giggled as they stumbled through the door, hand in hand, thinking they were being inconspicuous while actually being noticed by everyone else in the bar.

Ianto wasted no time in pushing her up against a stall, their mouths pressing together as she quickly undid his belt and he fumbled with the buttons of her shirt. The dexterity of his fingers was greatly decreased by the amount of alcohol in his system, so he quickly gave up and instead slipped his hands up underneath, feeling the smooth curve of her waist, warm beneath his touch.

Not a trace of metal anywhere.

Ianto suddenly remembered everything he had been trying so hard to forget, all the blood and pain the shower couldn’t wash away, and a wave of sickness came over him.

“I’m.. I’m sorry,” he stammered, pushing her away and just barely making it to the sink before vomiting out what remained of the last two drinks. He clung to the edge of the counter while waiting for everything around him to stop spinning.

“Hey, are you alright?” she asked, taking a step towards him.

Before he could answer, a hand far too large to belong to the blond was placed almost possessively on his shoulder and a second voice spoke.

“I’ll take care of it from here.”

He knew that voice. Ianto could hear the blond start to protest, but the grip on his shoulder tightened and it spoke again.

“Darling, I doubt you’ll get what you want out of him today, so you might as well go.”

The world stopped spinning enough that Ianto could see the blond adjust her shirt and stumble of the bathroom. He thought he heard her say “fuck this” as the door closed behind her with a soft click, and then he found himself to be completely alone with Jack Harkness.

“Ianto…” Jack began.

“No,” he muttered, twisting away from Jack’s touch and somehow managing to step away from the sink and right himself without completely losing his balance. He was face to face with Jack now, and could see the other man’s expression, or complete lack thereof. Ianto wanted to scream at him, to grab hold of him and shake him and yell at him until he was hoarse, to blame him for the pieces of Lisa that were scattered all over the floor of the Hub, for the blood that he could still feel, still see.

Instead, he looked Jack straight in the eye and said, “This is the lady’s room, sir. You shouldn’t be in here.”

Jack stared at him for a moment, and then his face broke out into a smile. Ianto wasn’t expecting that, and he finally lost his balance and his hands flung out desperately, searching for the nearest stall for support. Before he reached it, however, Jack somehow managed to reach him first, and he found a strong arm around his waist, supporting him.

“You are absolutely right, Ianto,” Jack said, shifting his weight slightly, “We shouldn’t be here, so let’s get you home.”

Together they slowly made their way out, and as Ianto headed back to his empty apartment, using the man who had just killed the woman he loved as a crutch, for some strange reason he had the fleeting sense that maybe, just maybe, things were going to be ok.


End file.
